Just Breathe
by LadyAriaa
Summary: That confession was so long ago, but it's still driving Drake crazy, and he's going to put a stop to it. With unintended consequences. A Metalverse what if.


It was like he was burning. Not just some fleeting warmth, no, his entire body was on fire and the pyre only burned hotter every time those words repeated themselves in his head.

I'm in love with you, Drake.

Just the whisper of that imaginary sound made Drake's heart beat faster in his chest, shaking fingers twisting into his shirt over the racing organ in an attempt to make it slow its painful pace. His breath was shaky as he inhaled deeply, trying and failing to calm his frayed nerves. Why was this happening? It had been more than four years since that stupid confession, so why was it coming back to haunt him now?

The truth was, there were a lot of reasons why. So many that attempting to analyzing them all might drive him insane simply from how vast it was, but of course, there was a simple explanation staring Drake in the face that he especially wasn't willing to acknowledge: he was just plain horny.

It had been so long since he had felt any sort of sex drive that he had basically managed to convince himself that he didn't have one anymore, but with the return of his other half, he found himself experiencing a whole lot of things he had forgotten he could feel. This was something new though. Sure, there had been a few people in the past that he had felt some sort of attraction to, but none of them had ever been another man, and they sure as hell had never been his best friend.

Drake snarled at the feeling, trying to vocally will it to go away as he lifted himself off of his back to sit on the edge of his bed. He fisted his fingers in the feathers at the back of his head, growling one final time before finally standing and storming from the room. He was going to stop this all right now.

There was no way he had feelings for Launchpad.

A short stretch down the hall, two lefts, and a sharp right: he had walked it so many times now he could navigate the space blindfolded. It was just after noon, a sure sign Launchpad would be in his room, and although he was hardly predictable, he did have his certain religious habits. Sure enough, there he was, sitting on his bed and half dressed as he often was at that time of day. For all his calculating of the other man's ritual behaviors, Drake had somehow forgotten that little detail, but then again, he had never been bothered by Launchpad being shirtless before.

Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea. Maybe he should just turn around and silently leave before Launchpad even noticed him; he could just pretend it had just never happened. But he was already turning, those eyes already upon him, the sight of his feathered back replaced by his toned chest, and Drake was suddenly frozen where he stood. Even from the door, he could smell that faint hint of oil and dust, that heavenly scent that had somehow always been so calming to him even when mixed with the sweat and grime of a hard day's work.

"What's up, DW?"

Too late. It was too late to run now. Maybe he could just say it was nothing. Launchpad wasn't exactly the brightest bird, he would probably believe it. Somehow, Drake couldn't do that though. His mind screamed at him to turn tail and run, but his feet carried him relentlessly forward, the beat of his boots against the dingy ground trailing him as he moved and mimicking his heartbeat. He snarled furiously to drown that sound of his blood pounding in his ears beneath so much fury that he wouldn't have to acknowledge what it really meant. There was no conscious thought in his head that actually told that fist to hit. It acted completely on its own, compelled by some invisible force telling knuckles to meet face, and before Drake even knew what was going on he was already preparing for another strike.

"OW! What the fuck, Drake?!" Launchpad yelled, catching both of Drake's fists before he could hit him again.

Still, the struggles didn't stop, leaving Launchpad with little option but to wrestle the other man onto his back so that he was pinned to the bed beneath him. For a moment, it seemed as though he had shocked Drake into submission, allowing Launchpad a moment to study his suddenly blushing face, but that moment bred nothing but more confusion. File it away with all the other moments in Launchpad's life he had been so confused by the world. This was different though; this was the person he cared most about in the world and before he knew it Drake was struggling again, yelling incoherently at him as he tried to force him to let go. Launchpad had dealt with more than a few fits of rage over the last few months as Drake struggled to get his emotions under control and piece his life back together, but it had never been like this. This wasn't blind rage unearthed by that wretched thing that still took up residence in the deepest recesses of his friend's soul, this was something else. Something far more vulnerable.

"Stop it, Drake!" Launchpad ordered, gripping him harder to keep him still. "What the hell is wrong with you?!"

The question finally snapped Drake from his temporary insanity, and he stared blankly at his friend as his chest shuddered beneath the force of his heavy breathing. "I… need… to talk to you."

Launchpad's jaw dropped at the response. "That's a funny fuckin' way to start a conversation!"

"Well, it's your fault!" Drake answered angrily, kicking his legs a few times in an attempt to get Launchpad to let him go before settling down once again when it became obvious that the other man had no intention of inviting another unsolicited attack.

"MY fault?! What the hell are you talking about, Drake?!"

"That confession! That stupid fucking confession! IT'S MAKING ME SICK!"

A furrowed brow and an expression of confused hurt were his response. It was several long moments before Launchpad could even form enough of a coherent thought to even really know what he was talking about. He felt like he knew, but that was so long ago. Could it really still be bothering him?

"I… I don't understand. That was years ago, why are you making such a fuss about it now?!"

"BECAUSE!" Drake answered furiously, struggling for a moment and whimpering at the rough hold. "Because—" His voice cracked and his body shook, choked gasps for air wracking his chest as he urged the words free. "Because… I can't stop thinking about it."

Of all the things he had so far said, that was by far the most shocking. Launchpad regarded his obviously struggling friend with sympathetic eyes, slowly easing his grip and shifting so that he was no longer pinning the other mallard to the mattress. Drake sat up sheepishly, head down and shoulders quivering as he tried to just pretend Launchpad wasn't there at all.

"Drake," Launchpad said softly. "Please, tell me what's wrong."

Drake bit at his bottom bill; he dug his teeth in deep with the hope that the physical pain might distract from the less tangible form of anguish still stirring his chest. "Why?" he choked out softly. "Why do you love me?"

Launchpad studied his friend with a pained look, trying to decide exactly how he could answer without making Drake feel worse. "Ya know it's okay for you not to feel the same," he said gently. "I just, couldn't keep it a secret anymore… it was tearin' me up."

"I-I know," Drake said. "But, why?"

For a moment only silence answered as Launchpad considered if he should really answer that question. "Because… you're everything to me," he finally offered.

Drake looked so confused that it almost seemed as if Launchpad hadn't even been speaking the right language. He opened and closed his mouth several times as though there was more he wanted to say but didn't know how to get the words out.

Launchpad took the chance to shift closer, placing a hand gently on Drake's knee in an attempt at comfort as he tried to get the other man to face him. "Drake," he said softly.

Finally, Drake dared to look at him, the faint haze of tears in his eye making him look so uncharacteristically helpless that it was almost like he was a different person altogether. Launchpad's gaze made him cower, one of his arms almost inexplicably shifting so that it rested between his legs. It really was a rather trivial action, but the way the appendage was now shielding him made everything a whole lot clearer especially when coupled with the hint of red on Drake's face.

Launchpad swallowed nervously, heart pounding as he inched closer, his hand moving with him as it shifted from Drake's knee to his thigh. The smaller man quivered slightly at the sensation, but he made no move to resist as Launchpad wrapped an arm around his back. He leaned in close, mind reeling as he asked himself if Drake was actually going to let him do this. If it was actually what he wanted. There was a painfully long pause as they both panted hotly into each other's space, breath mingling in a shared moment of uncertainty and longing.

"Can… can I kiss you?" Launchpad whispered.

Drake flushed at the question, shifting his gaze away once again as he considered the proposition. "I don't think you're supposed to ask," he answered distantly.

Launchpad laughed slightly at the retort. "I think this qualifies as extenuating circumstances."

"Big words for you."

"Hey, ya wanted me to work on my grammar, right?"

There was a soft twitch at the edge of Drake's mouth, but Launchpad wasn't quite sure whether it counted as a smile or not. Either way, Drake nodded slowly, closing his eye as he felt Launchpad move in closer. He gasped softly at the gentle pressure of fingers beneath his chin, giving in even as his heart raced nervously when Launchpad lifted his beak so he could press his own against it. His mind screamed at him that it was wrong, but he couldn't stop himself from wanting it: compelled by something that he was incapable of controlling.

Launchpad expected it to be a taste of bliss for him, something that had previously been confined only to his fantasies, but he didn't expect the reaction that he suddenly got from Drake. As though under the influence of some possession, Drake was suddenly straddling his lap, gripping his hair tightly and pressing himself close.

The kiss itself was strange: desperate and sloppy with a deeply hidden hint of something more. It was almost like Drake had never kissed anyone before. It had been awhile, Launchpad supposed, but there was still that something else that was concealed beneath that fervent behavior. Repressed desire, perhaps? Or was it just loneliness? Launchpad wasn't sure, but he wasn't about to risk breaking whatever spell Drake had just fallen under by demanding some unnecessary explanation. He greedily gripped at the other man's flesh, wandering fingers quickly finding their way to Drake's ass as he pulled his friend closer. Even through his feathers, he could feel the spike in Drake's pulse, but he was going to assume it wasn't a sign of fear or displeasure as long as Drake didn't express it as such. He certainly did seem to want it. It did, however, bring the other man to break the kiss so he could hide his face in Launchpad's neck with a whimper.

Launchpad's hands began to gently explore the quivering body in his arms, slipping along Drake's tail feathers before quickly moving on when the soft appendage twitched away apprehensively. Unsure fingers crept along Drake's belt, the burning breath against Launchpad's neck making the digits fumble as he undid the annoying piece of leather so he could get to the real reward he was after.

"I-Is this okay?" Launchpad asked softly.

Drake stiffed at the question. Was this okay? Was he okay? Drake wasn't really sure, but he felt himself nodding anyway.

There was no going back now.

A button, a zipper and a simple layer of fabric were all that separated Launchpad from what he had been lusting after for so long. It was hot and hard and displayed a desperation that was even greater than what Drake himself was showing. Launchpad must have been prepared for it in some sense, but he still managed to be surprised at how stiff it really was already—like it had been aching for hours. It was definitely obvious now what Drake had been trying to hide.

Soft feathers barely ghosted against the length, but it was enough to coat Launchpad's fingers with a slick smear of fluid. The body in Launchpad's arms trembled uncontrollably at the contact as Drake twisted his fingers roughly into the feathers at his companion's back. Launchpad's breath hitched at the pain, but all it really did in that moment was excite him even more. He tried his best to get Drake to move enough to actually get a look at the cock that was currently clenched in his hand, but it was obvious that the other man still had enough sense of thought left to want to keep himself hidden for the time being.

The annoyed sound was barely stifled, but Launchpad did his best to stay focused on the task (literally) at hand. He stroked intently at the twitching flesh, covering it completely in the self-made lubricant that Drake himself had provided. Launchpad was barely given a chance to appreciate the sensation before Drake was shaking harder, thrusting against his hand and stifling his moans against the skin of Launchpad's neck.

The telltale twitching of Drake's body was more than enough to show what had just taken place, but it was still a little hard to process. Launchpad wasn't even really sure it actually had happened, but the faint sensation of that warm fluid against his stomach that was quickly cooling in the ambient air was more than enough proof that it had indeed just happened. He didn't know what to do, so he just sat there, stunned, wide-eyed and dripping with his best friend's semen.

As if to provide further evidence of the shameful act, Drake's entire body cringed into Launchpad's embrace, gripping at his back with one hand as he hid his face in his other. "M'sorry," he mumbled, the humiliation brimming in the waver at the edge of his voice. "It's…. it's been awhile."

Even though he couldn't see it, Launchpad could clearly tell that Drake's entire face was showing his embarrassment. Hell, he could almost feel the heat coming from the other man's cheeks and it made him feel somewhat guilty even though Drake had obviously wanted it.

"I know," Launchpad said softly. "S'okay, Drake." He stroked tenderly at Drake's back, holding him close when the smaller duck shifted further into his arms. "I should be flattered really."

The soft chuckled that followed made Drake snort briefly in amusement, but it did little to make him feel better even though he knew that was what Launchpad was trying to do. Every fiber of his being gripped desperately at his slipping control, ignoring the mess on his clothes and the warmth of his body as he slowly broke down. Trembling fingers gripped at his face as he attempted to contain the flow of tears that he could do nothing to stop. His body shook hysterically in Launchpad's arms: embarrassed to need the comfort but far too desperate for it to pull away.

"This is so fucking wrong," Drake whimpered.

Launchpad was shocked at the response. He shouldn't have been; he really shouldn't have. He knew how Drake felt about homosexuality, he had gotten the message quite clearly when he had first confessed his feelings to his friend, but some part of his psyche had been so reassured by the display of passion and need that he had convinced his brain to forget it completely in favor of replacing the knowledge with the delusion that Drake was just over it.

He obviously wasn't.

Launchpad held him tighter, nearly causing him pain in an attempt to keep him from pulling away even though it was obvious that Drake had no intention of doing so despite his reaction.

"No, it's not," Launchpad said, burying his fingers in the feathers at the back of Drake's neck in the hopes that it might help calm his hysterical shaking. "There's nothin' wrong with you… with this. Not if you want it."

Drake shook his head frantically, possibly an attempt at denial, but it was already obvious that he did indeed want it. A few moments of deep, heavy breathing finally calmed him enough to express himself more clearly. "I-I… I just… I don't want to be alone anymore," he whispered. "I miss her so much." His cries grew more furious at those words, his entire body reacting much the way it did that day he found out Morgana would never be coming back, and Launchpad could do little more than hold him tightly much as he did that same day. "I don't like people, hell I HATE most people, but you—" Drake's words caught in his throat as he struggled to get them out through his erratic breathing. "You always seem to know how to make me feel better. Even when it doesn't seem like it. You're the only one besides Gosalyn who understands me… who loves me."

The next pause was painfully long, the dead air occupied only by the soft sound of Drake's heart-wrenching gasps for air as he attempted to get himself under control. It made it very difficult for Launchpad to tell if he was expected to answer that or not.

"I don't w-want… I don't want to love anyone else… just you," Drake finally said, his voice barely a whisper in what suddenly seemed like such a vast and empty space.

The soft confession broke what was left of the already thread thin composure, letting forth a wave of repressed feelings as Drake sobbed into Launchpad's shoulder.

"It's okay, Drake," Launchpad reassured, shifting his body so that he could wrap himself fully around the man in his arms. "It's okay," he repeated softly. "You don't need to feel guilty about this… Everyone needs love. An for most people that includes sexual love."

Drake didn't respond, but he did grip Launchpad tighter as he considered his words. "I'm just so confused… I never… liked a guy before. It's fucking wrong."

"No. It's not," Launchpad said sternly. "I know you were raised a certain way, but… ya can't keep doing this to yourself. You can't torture yourself when you didn't do anything wrong!" Launchpad pressed his beak gently into Drake's feathers, risking a retaliation by grooming him gently just for a moment. "If I love you, and you love me, there's no reason we shouldn't be together. It doesn't matter what anyone else thinks," Launchpad paused, considering the last piece of the puzzle that would help release Drake from this death grip his emotions currently had on him. "…and Morgana would never hate you for this."

There was a sudden change in the entire aura of the room. A shift in sensation occurred as if Drake had been waiting all these years just to hear that Morgana would want him to move on.

"Yeah?" Drake said, sniffling slightly as he wiped at the last bit of persistent moisture still clinging to the corner of his eye. "She always did like you. Said you were good for me… kept me from being too serious all the time."

Launchpad smiled at the softly spoken sentiment, shifting into a more comfortable position as Drake finally dared to pull away from him. He did his best to keep from smirking stupidly at the way Drake assessed his own cum stained midsection in a mix of disgust and embarrassment.

"I still can't believe I fucking did that," Drake mumbled.

Launchpad knew he was referring to the alacrity of the whole thing rather than the handjob itself, and it made him consider what exactly had caused it to happen that way in the first place. "Excuse the personal question an all, but when's the last time you… took care a yourself?"

Drake's entire body flushed at the boldness of the question. Was he really expecting him to answer that? Of course, he was. This was Launchpad after all, and he was hardly the type to keep his thoughts to himself. That was a big part of why Drake liked him; even if he didn't quite believe that at moments like this.

"I didn't exactly have much of a libido when half of me was trying to destroy the entire world," Drake grumbled.

It was obvious from the look on Launchpad's face that he suddenly felt somewhat bad for asking it.

Drake sighed heavily at the expression; he really did hate to see his best friend looking so dejected. "Do you remember when we didn't have a shower curtain for like a month because of Gosalyn's ill-conceived attempt at a homemade parachute?"

"Yeah."

"And we hid in that mud pit when those three psychos were after us?"

"Yeeah."

"…. And you snuck off to shower without telling me because you wanted it first?"

"Uh huh, that sounds familiar."

"….."

Launchpad cocked a brow at Drake's expression, unsure exactly what he was getting at. The longer the silence stretched on, the more uncomfortable Drake looked. He finally turned his head away when he could no longer face that look of ignorance, internally willing Launchpad to just get it so he didn't have to spell it out.

The deepening of the blush on Drake's face finally snapped all the pieces into place as Launchpad dug the rest of the details of that day free from his subconscious. "…oh. OH!" he snickered, unable to resist smiling stupidly at the realization of what Drake must have unwittingly witnessed that day. "Didn't realize I was puttin' on a show, but I'm glad ya liked it I guess." It took a moment for the full implications of it to sink in, but once it did Launchpad's eyes widened in disbelief. "Holy shit though, that was like… two years ago, dude! No wonder yer so fuckin' pent up."

"… I wasn't exactly raised to think masturbation was an acceptable behavior."

Launchpad's face fell at the reminder of exactly how repressed Drake's upbringing had really made him. It had been traditional and strict to the point of torment, and it wasn't exactly something he particularly liked to discuss. Launchpad had been struggling to help him get over all of that ever since he met him, but that was difficult, and it was a huge part of what had birthed Negaduck into the world.

"You know that ain't true, Drake."

Drake nodded. "Yeah, I know. Still kinda hard to get off when you have all these voices in your ear telling you how fucking disgusting you are."

Launchpad wasn't sure if making a joke was going to help at the moment, but his lack of mental filter forced the words from his mouth before he could even stop it. "Well, you were spying on me while I was jackin' off, so I guess ya are a little disgusting."

The brief wink and lopsided smile were more than enough to assure Drake that he was joking, but that didn't stop his eyes from rolling at the sloppy attempt to reroute his attention even as a fleeting smile slipped across his face. The soft show of amusement was soured by the uncomfortable feeling in his throat, making him swallow against the pain of the question he was about to ask.

"Were you… thinking of me?"

Launchpad flushed at the question. He hadn't been expecting that. In fact, it was so strange that he was tempted to slap himself just to be sure he wasn't dreaming. The sheepish way that Drake garnered his attention snapped him quickly from the mental freeze as that gaze begged him for some sort of reassurance.

"Because, I was imagining you were," Drake finished softly.

It was rather hard to admit, more to himself than Launchpad, but in that moment it somehow felt necessary to say.

Launchpad smiled softly, shifting closer so he could stroke gently along Drake's cheek. "I'm always thinkin' of you, DW," he answered gently.

It was still so strange to hear that nickname spoken so freely once again, but it filled Drake's entire body with an irresistible warmth every time Launchpad said it. It was such a shift from the stabbing pain it had left behind only months ago when his entire life had fallen apart and Darkwing Duck was just a painful memory. The fuzzy feeling kept him from noticing that he didn't respond, but Launchpad paid it little mind as he moved closer, finally regaining Drake's attention with the nearer proximity.

"Wanna see how much I'm thinkin' of you now?" Launchpad whispered somewhat shyly.

It took a moment for the words to even sink in, Drake's eye drifting lower as his brain sluggishly tried to catch up enough to realize what Launchpad was getting at. Drake's brow furrowed when his gaze finally focused on the other man's crotch, his brow raising slowly as the strained fabric registered along with what exactly Launchpad had meant by that. He barely even realized what he was doing when he nodded, but he couldn't deny that he did indeed want to see.

Drake's fingers fisted in his shirt as Launchpad removed his belt, time almost seeming to slow as his heart pounded once again and his attention was held captive as Launchpad lowered his zipper with an excruciating slowness. Drake was panting heavily by the time the erection was actually freed, his own loins stirring back to life almost immediately at the uncensored sight of it.

Drake swallowed thickly. One thing was instantly clear as soon as Launchpad shifted his boxers lower to fully expose the entire length: Drake had greatly underestimated how pronounced their difference in size would really be. That thought deepened the shade of red on his face, but it didn't stop him from gathering what little courage he had to explore the newly bared flesh. He didn't exactly know what he was going to do, but he did know he wanted to feel it. It was delightfully warm, silky smooth, and not so different in shape from his own. Drake figured he should have expected that, but he wasn't exactly in the habit of comparing himself to other men. The second it twitched from the light stimulation, he ripped his fingers away, shuddering slightly when he fisted them into his own cum-covered shirt once more.

"I feel gross."

"Geez, didn't think it would be that bad," Launchpad grumbled. A look at the indignant expression on Drake's face clearly told Launchpad that he hadn't exactly interpreted that one right. "Oh, you mean your clothes." He laughed slightly at the thought, moving closer and bringing a strange sense of claustrophobia with him. "Well, why don't we get ya outta those then?"

There was that fleeting smile again: oh, how Launchpad loved it. It didn't last long before Drake was shifting uncomfortably once more, curling in on himself slightly with a look of extreme unease on his face. For a moment it was unclear what it meant, but it didn't take long for Launchpad to realize what the problem was.

"Not like I haven't seen your scars," he said gently.

"Yeah, I know," Drake replied uncomfortably. "This is just… kinda different."

"You're gorgeous to me no matter what."

That should have been embarrassing. It should have made him feel like a sissy or the woman in all this, but instead, it made Drake happy in a way that he didn't really understand. No, he didn't understand, but God he loved it. There was only a brief hesitation in his actions as he gripped the hem of his shirt, lifting it slowly away from his slightly slick torso.

Launchpad watched hungrily as Drake exposed himself, delighted to watch as the soft outline of his muscles moved beneath his feathers. He had always done his best to keep from eying his friend in such a way, but now that he actually had Drake's permission he fully intended to savor every second of it. He was fast to place a firm but gentle hand on Drake's now exposed midsection, petting him gently to keep him from moving to hide himself now that he had taken that leap. In that moment, Launchpad realized how hard he had been trying to forget how many scars Drake now had. They littered almost every inch of his skin, marring the feathers and leaving behind physical evidence of their twisted memories. Drake didn't like that he was studying them, that was obvious, but there was nothing Launchpad wanted more in that moment but to make him realize that they weren't repulsive. Not to him.

Launchpad's hand slid through the soft, if slightly sticky, plumage until it rested just over Drake's heart, feeling the heavy beat of it for a moment before gently coaxing Drake to lie on his back. He did so somewhat timidly, but let Launchpad take the lead as he really wasn't sure what to do. Part of Launchpad wondered if this was so different from how he had been with Morgana. It seemed so like Drake to be unsure of himself regardless of the gender of his partner, and he couldn't help but briefly consider if it had ever been almost exactly like this with Morgana.

There was no way he was going to ask though. That was an old wound that should never be touched. It had left behind a scar much deeper than those that littered his chest, and although it was invisible it had dug far deeper and would last much longer.

A soft blush coated Launchpad's face as that thought invaded his head, his fingers hooking onto Drake's belt loops and pulling slowly as the other man helped by kicking his own boots off. Launchpad suddenly felt rather overdressed even with nothing but his pants on, but how sweet a triumph it was to have the person he admired most spread out beneath him and finally willing to let him lavish him with tender attention; it was certainly obvious from the reawakened organ between his legs that Drake did want it.

Drake was fine as he watched Launchpad briefly stand just so he could remove his own restrictive clothing, but the closer the now naked man got, the more his breathing sped and his heart raced, and by the time Launchpad was leaning over him he was sure the organ was going to beat right out of his chest. "I.. don't exactly know how this is supposed to work. With two men that is," he admitted quietly.

Launchpad cocked an amused brow at the soft confession, unable to keep the lewd smirk off his face as he regarded the nervous man beneath him. "Well, you've only got two holes ya know."

Drake flushed at the retort, scowling in annoyance at his ever flippant sidekick. "I know that part," he grumbled. "I mean, how exactly? It—doesn't that just hurt?"

"Oh, there's something in there that makes it worth it."

"Which is?"

Launchpad was genuinely surprised to hear that Drake really had no idea what he was talking about.

"You flunked anatomy, didn't cha?"

"Yeah, I mostly slept through anatomy."

Launchpad chucked softly at Drake's ignorance. It wasn't very often that he was the one who had to explain things. "Well, guys have this wonderful little thing called a prostate, and believe me it makes it all worth it."

Drake was obviously uncomfortable to be receiving an impromptu sexual education class, but he couldn't deny that he wanted to know. "And that makes it… not hurt?" he asked skeptically.

"Well, no, but it does make it feel fucking amazing."

Drake still didn't look convinced.

"Look, I'm not exactly a specialist on anal, but I've done it enough to know the two most important things are lube and, uh, preparation." Launchpad had thought he explained it well enough, but Drake just seemed to look more confused by it all. "Gotta stick my fingers in you and loosen your asshole," he reiterated.

Drake certainly didn't look confused anymore, but he definitely didn't look reassured either. "And people actually enjoyed when you did that to them?"

"I know I did."

Drake glared at the shit-eating smirk on his friend's face. "Oh, thank you LP that makes me feel sooo much better."

Launchpad chuckled. "Oh come on, I was jus jokin'."

"I'm aware."

It was a quiet answer, barely whispered with the sound of something much deeper behind it. Nervousness Launchpad supposed, but there was probably more to it than just that. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to do," he reassured. "Hell, you don't even have to reciprocate if you're not comfortable with that."

"No! I… I want to," Drake said, rubbing his fingers timidly through Launchpad's feathers. "Reciprocate that is," he whispered. "I'm just—" He paused briefly to regard the cock that was pressed against his own, flushing slightly as he once again considered the size of it. "I'm not entirely sure I'm physically capable of… that."

Launchpad smiled softly at him, stroking his fingers along Drake's face in a gentle request for him to reroute his attention away from the substantial piece of meat that was making him so nervous. Drake was admittedly anxious to meet that gaze, but he still forced himself to do it with little more than a soft sigh to express his uncertainty. It was unwarranted. There was nothing mocking in that gaze, no sarcasm, no sexual predation, only love and understanding, and it made Drake flush in a way that he so far hadn't. A way he hadn't since Morgana had been alive.

"You're definitely capable of it," Launchpad said. "If you want it."

Drake considered this very thoughtfully, breaking the gaze once again as he searched his mess of emotions to try and determine if he really did want that.

"Trust me."

Drake heart nearly stopped at those words. Like a key to a lock, they released whatever doubt he had and made the blaring reality of it all too clear: he wanted Launchpad in every way possible. He swallowed nervously, nodding his head slowly as he leaned against his friend's chest and allowed the other man to wrap his arms around him.

"Just don't hurt me," Drake mumbled into Launchpad's chest feathers. "I'm tired of hurting."

There was no stopping the frown that responded to those words. "I can't say it won't hurt a little, but if it's too much I'll stop. Jus say the word," Launchpad said with a gentle kiss to Drake's temple.

"That's good enough," Drake whispered.

Launchpad coaxed Drake away from the safe haven of his plumage, petting him affectionately as he smiled down at him. "I promise it feels good."

"I'll be the judge of that."

Launchpad chuckled at the retort, finally sure in the fact that Drake was starting to ease up about the whole thing even if it was just a little. "Be right back," he said, rushing off towards the bathroom with a skip in his step that made Drake smile despite his confusion over the sudden departure.

He tapped his fingers restlessly against the mattress, the few seconds that Launchpad was gone suddenly feeling like an eternity when he was alone with his thoughts. Not too late to back out, he reminded himself. Not too late to run. But no, he couldn't do that. Not to Launchpad and not to himself. Drake sighed heavily into the empty room, worrying his bottom bill in his teeth as he considered if he was really prepared to be on the receiving end of all this. Maybe Launchpad would let them switch. His color deepened. No, that would be even worse. Even with Morgana, he had always struggled to take the lead. Somehow, he was just never quite sure what to do. He whimpered pitifully, dropping his face into his hands as he was overcome by his own reserve.

"Why is this such a big deal to you?" Drake asked himself dolefully.

Cause you're a fucking faggot.

"Shut up."

You just want to be his disgusting little bitch.

"I said shut up!"

You'll always be disgusting.

"NO!"

Drake put a hand to his bill, clenching it shut to prevent more of the one-sided conversation from leaving it. "There's nothing wrong with me," he whispered. "It's not wrong."

He chanted the sentence in his head, mentally repeating it over and over to try and make himself accept Launchpad's words as fact. He wasn't sure he did yet, but he was sure of that man that had just sauntered off to do who knows what. After all, there was no one else in the world Drake was willing to be so open around, and whether it made him a "faggot" or not, he wanted to give this a chance. He had been obsessing over it for weeks, months, maybe even years if he actually had the guts to admit it to himself, and he couldn't take living in denial of it anymore. He did have feelings for Launchpad.

Drake rubbed groggily at his face, fingers ghosting along the new eyepatch that Launchpad had given him only days prior. It had been somehow difficult to let go of that old rag of a mask that he had used for years as a makeshift covering for the empty orbital, and only Launchpad would have known how important it was for Drake to get rid of it as part of their new start. No one else would have known that. No one else knew his darkest secrets, his greatest fears and desires, no one else could make him laugh the way he did or keep him from breaking down, and no one else had ever wanted to be his friend. Hell, the guy had even flown to Tibet, searching and sweating through the mountains for days, just to make sure he was okay. Drake smiled sadly at the memory. It had been one of the lowest points in his life, and when he was rejected by a group of monks of all people there Launchpad was, dirty and exhausted, breathless from climbing countless stairs, and looking like the most beautiful sight in the world.

Drake jumped, hazy memories changing into the here and now as Launchpad reappeared before him, but he smiled anyway, reminded in that moment of exactly how wonderful Launchpad had looked on that day so many years ago. Launchpad smiled back, but Drake didn't really notice as his attention was rerouted to the object clenched in the other man's fingers.

"What's that?" Drake asked.

Launchpad's soft smile transformed into a lopsided smirk as he moved closer, stroking his fingers lightly along his erection just for the thrill of seeing Drake watch. "One a those important things I mentioned," he said.

Drake still looked somewhat confused as Launchpad rejoined him on the bed, so Launchpad handed the item over for his partner's inspection. He couldn't help but laugh at the expression on Drake's face as he studied the bottle of lubricant, biting at his beak lightly to control the sound as he watched the other man read the label.

"Strawberry flavored," Drake mumbled. "…. Why the hell would my ass care what flavor it is?"

It took a moment for it to sink in. Drake wasn't normally the joking type, but as the words registered one by one Launchpad's grin grew more and more and he was soon laughing uncontrollably, chest shaking in a way that Drake found oddly irresistible as his eyes watered from the strain. Drake probably should have been somewhat annoyed, but instead, he found himself laughing with him, soft chuckles soon mounting into a deep laugh that grew in his chest and poured from his mouth without restraint.

Launchpad wiped the faint moisture from the corner of his eyes as they both settled down. "Ya know, I always wondered that myself," he said with a final chuckle.

Drake was still snickering ever so softly when Launchpad moved in closer once again, the chortles only quieting completely when Launchpad gently took the bottle from his hand. There were those nerves again, that simple action bringing Drake back to the looming reality as Launchpad smiled at him in a way that was clearly asking his permission for something more.

Drake was grateful for it. All this time, Launchpad had tenderly been asking for his permission in some way or another, and although he would never say it, those simple acts meant a lot to him. It meant this was much more to Launchpad than just sex. Not that it really stopped Drake from feeling nervous.

Launchpad could tell, but he didn't bring it up, choosing instead to pull Drake gently into another kiss. It was far slower and more deliberate than the last, both of them calmed from the fervent emotions they had been feeling previously, but in a way, it was far more passionate. It distracted Drake, calming him into allowing Launchpad to coax him onto his back once again, guiding him with confidence so that he didn't have to struggle to make any decisions on his own.

Drake's mind was little more than mush in that moment: incapable of making the choices for himself even if he tried. All his brain could muster was to urge his hands to wrap themselves around the man above him, pulling himself upwards into the kiss as Launched pressed back. Drake's hands clenched desperately at Launchpad's hair, twisting his fingers through the strands and making the other man moan into the kiss. It made Drake happy. Happy to know that he could muster at least some form of exchange that Launchpad would enjoy.

They were past the need to speak, Drake's breathy panting replacing the spoken word as Launchpad broke the kiss only to leave more of them along Drake's body as he moved lower. All at once, that gasping stopped, Drake's breath catching in his throat and holding there as Launchpad reached his final destination. Apparently, there was some need for words after all.

"Breathe," Launchpad said.

That voice: so deep and gentle as if to make Drake want him even more. The breath he had been holding left him in a single rush of air, his chest struggling to replace the lost oxygen with more of the stale air around them. He hadn't even realized he'd been doing it, but he was starting to wonder if he was even capable of surviving this.

There were those hands again. They stroked along his sides and eased their way towards Drake's most tender areas as Launchpad continued to kiss his feathers gently.

No.

Not his feathers.

His scars.

Drake shuddered at the realization. Every one of those affectionate pecks had been placed on one of his scars, Launchpad mapping every old wound with an act of love just to make some distinction between the past and present. Drake's brain still couldn't quite process the difference, but in that moment that simple act meant a whole lot more to him than he had realized. He moaned at the feeling, answering Launchpad's unspoken question with a simple vocalization of carnal desire when his words failed him.

Those hands were on him yet again, somewhere else this time. Somewhere that made his body twitch and his toes curl inwards. He bit at his beak as those fingers stroked him, fluid leaking onto Launchpad's hand as he moved in a slow, rhythmic motion up and down. Drake nearly whined when the contact stopped, the sound dying before it could be heard when the fingers were immediately replaced with something else. Drake's eye widened comically, blush spreading from his face to the rest of his body as every ounce of his blood pooled lower. It was warm and wet and surprisingly talented, but it was also something he hadn't experienced in a long time.

This time Launchpad could hear him whimper. He would never say it as he was sure it would just embarrass Drake horribly, but the sound of it was incredibly stimulating, and he wanted so badly for him to do it again. His tongue moved to fulfill that need; it swiped along the tender flesh, Launchpad pulling out every trick he had in an attempt to coax out more of that delightful noise. His enthusiasm was rewarded with more moaning, music to his ears, as he vibrated against the sensitive organ with moans of his own.

"L-Launchpad," Drake whined. "Wait, I-I, I don't think-" He couldn't even get the rest of the sentence out, but Launchpad got the request clear enough.

His mouth opened slowly, releasing Drake's cock in a rather messy fashion as strings of saliva and precum clung to the other man's skin when he pulled away. He knew Drake was afraid of embarrassing himself again. It was time to switch tasks anyway.

Drake might have actually been able to recognize the sound of that bottle cap snapping open, but in his current state of mind, every ounce of his attention had been directed towards the rhythmic breathing that was currently shakily holding his control in place. Only the feeling of slick fingers beneath his tail broke the furious concentration, Drake finally daring to look down between his legs where Launchpad was regarding him with those tender yet lustful eyes.

"Relax," Launchpad whispered.

Drake could hear the excitement in his voice, but he also noted that pause after he said it. He was asking permission again, giving Drake time to object if he so desired. But he didn't. Quite the contrary in fact: he nodded his approval just so that Launchpad had an obvious indication that he was offering his consent.

It was just one finger at first, but it felt like a whole lot more. The pace of Drake's breathing increased as his fingers fisted into the sheets beneath him in an attempt to give him some tangible reality to grip to. There was a definite twinge of discomfort, but it really wasn't so bad. That is until Drake considered that this was only one finger, and Launchpad had a whole lot more to give. The thought made his entire body tense, the slight discomfort becoming somewhat painful as he clenched around the intruding digit.

"It's okay, Drake," Launchpad reassured, rubbing his free hand along Drake's shaking thigh to try and get him to relax. "Do you want me to stop?"

"No!" Drake yelled, sitting up slightly so that he could more clearly regard his friend. Despite the red on his face, his determination still showed through. "Don't stop."

Launchpad smiled at the genuine sound of that whispered plea, returning his attention to the excited appendage in front of his face. He licked at the cock, smirking slightly when it twitched in response. A soft pant of desire was his reward, the action obviously serving its purpose to distract Drake once again so that Launchpad could press his finger deeper into the slowly softening channel.

Drake was obviously still experiencing some level of discomfort, but Launchpad's distraction technique definitely seemed to be helping. Even as he added a second finger, and Drake hissed softly in pain, he could tell from the quiet sounds he was releasing that the pleasure was enough to dull the steady ache. In truth, part of Drake was struggling a lot, but it was less the pain and more his nerves that he was having a hard time dealing with. He was no stranger to pain, but he had never given into it willingly for the sake of pleasure, and as Launchpad began to scissor his fingers, stretching the hesitant muscles and coating them with more lubricant, Drake began to wonder if it would really be worth it.

It was then that he realized that it wasn't even the pleasure of sex that had driven him into the arms of this man. It was that something else that comes with making love to someone who you care about very much. It was that moment where you cease to be two parts of a whole and merge into one another so completely that it's impossible to tell that you were ever separate at all. It was a sort of insanity really: a momentary madness that makes the real world seem like a feverish delusion, and Drake wanted that feeling. What he got instead was a feeling he was much less accustomed to.

Once again Drake's hands were in the sheets, twisting them so tightly the tips of his fingers grew numb and his arms shook from the strain. This was something new. Sure it was a similar sort of pleasure to what he was used to, but it was concentrated, torturous, and spread from that single spot like sexual lightning through his nerves.

"D-do that again," Drake panted.

Was that even really him that just said that? He didn't know anymore. He was trapped somewhere between delusion and love and he had surrendered himself so completely to Launchpad that he already didn't know who he was anymore. All he knew was that feeling was amazing, and he wanted more.

Launchpad shuddered happily at the sound of those words, tempted for a moment to explain to Drake that this was the fabled prostrate that he had earlier tried to describe, but shook the thought from his head when he realized not only would it be silly to remind him as Drake was probably incapable of even processing it at the moment.

"Drake," he whispered instead.

The lustful sound of that single word made Drake quiver even harder and moan even louder, his hips thrusting against Launchpad's fingers as he begged for more. Launchpad groaned in need, spreading his fingers as wide as he could even when Drake's face twitched in pain once again.

Launchpad moved closer, body shifting but his fingers remaining as they were despite the fact that Drake was now cursing softly at the strain. "Drake," Launchpad repeated, petting his fingers gently along the other man's flushed cheek in a request for him to open his eye.

Drake did so hesitantly. For a moment, it was like the eye was literally paralyzed like an invisible weight was holding it down because that darkness it provided was much less terrifying than facing the real world, but he was surprised to find his body relaxing the instant he held that gaze. That smile, shimmering in the faint sunlight like a tranquil pool that Drake found himself getting lost in. Drowning in maybe. It was beautiful though, and for the first time since the entire thing started, he found himself admitting that he was indeed attracted to another man, and he liked it.

A shaky groan slipped from his mouth when Launchpad pressed his fingers deeper, rolling them against Drake's prostrate and delighting in the way it made his hips buck against him once again. The fact that it was starting to get much easier was not lost on either of them, but Launchpad was also aware that what came next would be somewhat more difficult.

"I-I'm not gonna lie, I didn't expect that to actually feel good," Drake panted, groaning for a moment as Launchpad rubbed that spot yet again. "But it's still going to hurt… isn't it?"

Drake always did seem to have the eerie talent of reading his mind.

Launchpad nodded, spreading his fingers wider one final time before removing them slowly and pressing his forehead against Drake's. "Yeah it probably will," he answered. "But don't worry. I got ya, DW."

Drake's blood pressure spiked at those words but it wasn't in an altogether unpleasant way. As a matter of fact, it actually excited him. Not the pain, he rather wished that wasn't going to be a part of it, but the idea of this all finally coming to a climax—so to say—was exhilarating in a way he didn't expect. He wanted this man, and for the first time, he truly believed it.

The smile was shaky at first, spreading slowly like his muscles were engaging in the act for the very first time, but the more he inspected that love in Launchpad's eyes, the bolder the expression grew, and Launchpad could swear his heart stopped in that moment. Drake always looked amazing to him but with his sweat-slicked feathers clinging close to his body and the depth of his gaze filled with so much uninhibited love he looked akin to a dream: a living fantasy that had no business existing in the waking world. Still, there he was, clinging gently to Launchpad's arms and smiling his permission up at him despite that voice in his head still trying to scream at him that this was disgusting. He was going to mute that voice once and for all, and only Launchpad could help him do it.

This time, it was Launchpad's turn to feel uncertain, and the feeling painted his face red as he was held captive by that Drake induced trance. That is until that smile started to fall, and Drake started to look uncomfortable again. Launchpad shook his head in a sloppy attempt to bring himself back to reality, yanking Drake's hips closer and making him yelp slightly at the sudden rough treatment. Launchpad panted heavily as his cock was forced up against the slick hole he had just been teasing. He moaned at the feeling, thrusting a few time and spreading the feeling of lubricant against his skin and the smell of strawberries through the air. He didn't know it at the time, but that scent would forever remind him of his lover from that moment on.

Launchpad calmed his state of mind enough to return Drake's smile, rubbing his fingers through his feathers as he absently added more of the berry scented fluid to his length. "You ready?" he asked.

The question was soft and affectionate, but Drake still found himself needing a moment to consider it. Launchpad was giving him one final chance to back out, and honestly, it was somewhat embarrassing to Drake to have him ask that so brazenly, but at the same time, he knew that Launchpad needed a verbal response this time: unequivocal evidence that Drake truly was okay with this very intimate act.

Could he even back out now? Was he capable of running now after he had been secretly lusting after this for so long? The displeased shudder that ran through his body was more than enough evidence that he couldn't. One final time that internal voice tried to convince him to take that out and keep from becoming something that had so sickened him in the past, but it was no longer that echoing yell; it had become little more than a muffled mumble, and Drake no longer wanted anything to do with it.

"Yes," Drake finally whispered.

He couldn't bring himself to say anything more, but that was the only word Launchpad needed to hear.

The initial penetration was slow, torturously slow, and it left Drake gasping frantically as though all the oxygen had just been leeched from the air. Launchpad pulled him close, allowing Drake to grip at his back and hide his face in his feathers as he pressed past the initial resistance. A barely audible but still painful sounding whimper responded to the sensation as Launchpad finally seated himself inside, his cock leaking at the way Drake immediately tightened around him.

Only the heavy breaths he sucked into his lungs kept him from just ramming the rest of the way in and causing his partner an undue amount of pain. Instead, he stroked Drake's back gently, rubbing in tender circles in an attempt to get him to calm down. "You okay?" he asked breathlessly.

"Yeah. Yeah, just-just give me a second," Drake groaned into his feathers.

Launchpad was doing his best to do just that, but it was admittedly difficult. Strong arms eased Drake away from his chest, allowing him to do the only thing he could think of to distract from the discomfort that was suddenly making Drake extremely anxious. The kiss connected somewhat rough, but it quickly eased into a rhythmic massaging of tongue against tongue, Launchpad salivating at the taste of the other man. It did well enough to reroute Drake's nerves, allowing Launchpad to ease the rest of the way in with little more than a faint grunt from Drake in response.

Both their hearts sped faster, falling into a synchronous rhythm as Drake's body finally relaxed enough for Launchpad to actually move. More whimpering responded to the slow, careful motion, Drake squirming beneath the foreign pressure as it stretched him over and over.

Drake finally tore himself away from the kiss, dropping back against the mattress and pressing on Launchpad's chest in an attempt to get him to stop. "W-wait!" he said, legs trembling as he tried to get his body under control.

There was no controlling himself now. He supposed that was what was really making him so anxious at the moment, relinquishing that control, but he couldn't stop himself as he dug his fingers into Launchpad's skin until he stopped, hissing in pain as Drake pulled a few of his feathers free.

"Geez easy on the merchandise, Drake!" Launchpad huffed, rubbing at the spot where the other man had accidentally detached some of his plumage.

"Sorry," Drake whispered. "I just-I'm not… I'm not used to this."

Launchpad let out a soft, panting laugh at the thought. "It's not gonna feel good if I don't move, ya know."

Drake cringed slightly in response. "I suppose movement does tend to be crucial to sexual pleasure."

Launchpad smiled at the response. "Have I mentioned how much I love the way ya talk?" he asked.

"… Not recently."

"Well, I do," Launchpad continued, slipping a hand between their bodies so that he could stroke at the erection currently digging into his stomach. "I love the way you talk, the way you move, the way you think."

With every compliment, there was another slow thrust, each one deliberate, searching, and slick with sexual desire. Some part of Drake hated to admit it, but in that moment those sweet words did more to help him loosen him up than the deft fingers stroking his cock.

"Launchpad."

"I love the way you sip your coffee every morning, the way you take care of Gosalyn… the way you sing."

In, out, one breath at a time coming out in shaky pants as Drake reminded himself how the allegedly innate action was supposed to work. Somehow that last part was particularly intimate. The fact that Drake loved to sing had been predominantly tainted by the events of the last several years, and in that moment he could barely even wrap his head around how happy it made him that Launchpad still loved it.

The thin blanket beneath him was no longer enough to state Drake's need to cling to something, so he threw his arms around Launchpad's neck instead, fisting his fingers in the other man's braid in the process. The act of passion was so forceful it actually pulled the neat arrangement of follicles loose, Launchpad's red hair falling along his shoulders before Drake buried his fingers in it once again. Whatever words were on Launchpad's tongue in that moment were forgotten and replaced with the soft sound of guttural passion as his hips jerked forcefully into Drake's body in an animalistic attempt to drive himself as deep as possible.

It hurt, and some part of Drake was aware of that fact, but the aim of that instinctive thrust pressed Launchpad's length against that same delightful spot and drowned every ounce of pain beneath so much pleasure that he couldn't tell one sensation from the other anymore. Drake's thighs clenched against Launchpad's body as he rolled his hips in a desperate plea for more.

"Launchpad," Drake moaned. "F-faster."

It was barely whispered into his ear, but Launchpad didn't have to be told twice. The pace increased, joining them closer, driving them crazier, and blurring the line between one body and the other. Launchpad did his best to aim for that same spot that had Drake seeing stars and moaning into his neck, but he was losing his ability to think clearly and the increased pace proved too much.

Both Launchpad's hands gripped at Drake's hips, pressing as close as possible as he jerked against him and emptied his seed into his body. There was very little he could do in that moment besides remind himself to keep thrusting before he lost his erection completely so that he could make sure Drake's needs were met. It certainly wouldn't be the best first time if he left his partner hanging.

As it turned out, the fear was unwarranted. The second that wet warmth began to fill him, Drake nearly lost his mind completely. It had been easy to convince himself previously that he would hate such a thing, but the reality of the situation was very different than anything he could have previously imagined. He liked it a lot: this feeling of being filled with his lover's cum. What little sense of reality he had left was enough to make him feel embarrassed to like such a thing, but it wasn't enough to stop him from reacting to the sensation of Launchpad's semen leaking from his body with the same product of his own.

His lustful grunts turned into a mess of muffled moans as he came, his teeth instinctively digging into Launchpad's shoulder as he thrust against the slick stain he had just made in the other man's feathers. It felt good, so good, and in that split second of complete euphoria, he knew he wanted this forever. Not just the sex, but the heart of that man that was pressed against him, the sensation of that organ beating against his own chest, and the warmth and comfort of being in Launchpad's arms.

Drake released the abused flesh beneath his teeth shyly, surprised to feel himself licking tenderly at the bruised skin in a nonverbal apology. Launchpad smiled at the action, unnecessary though it was, pulling his now flaccid shaft from his friend's body and collapsing against the bed with Drake in his arms so he could let his exhausted muscles rest.

For a long moment, they just laid there, sharing a mutual silence as their breathing slowed and their bodies cooled. When Launchpad finally opened his tired eyes, he found Drake staring sleepily at him, his face somewhat neutral but his eye showing how content he really felt in that moment. It was a sense of calm that Launchpad hadn't seen from him in a very long time, and it warmed his heart to know that he could give his best friend such a gift.

"You okay?" Launchpad asked as he stroked gently at the feathers on Drake's forehead.

Drake nodded lazily. "Yeah. Just a little sore."

"I guess you'll jus have ta stay in bed with me all day, eh?"

He was rewarded with a brief smirk, Drake closing his eye for a moment as he shifted onto his back and slowly stretched his muscles. "What, are you putting me on butt rest now?"

Launchpad laughed, surprised to find Drake rather at ease about the whole thing now that it was over. "Hey, I don't mind switchin' sometimes, ya know," he said with a smirk. "Not gonna bother my manhood none to play bottom now and then."

It was mostly a joke, but Drake was obviously considering it rather intently. "I… I think I'd actually like that… eventually. I'd be a bit bummed if I didn't get to really use my dick anymore."

"Hey, the offer's valid anytime, babe," Launchpad said with a chuckle.

He groaned slightly as he finally forced his body to move again, rolling lazily over so he could fish a cigar from his jacket that had been deposited on the floor earlier that day. He was too busy enjoying the first hit of heavy smoke to notice the somewhat annoyed expression that answered the pet name he had just given his partner, but somehow Drake found himself not minding too much.

"God I missed post sex smokes," Launchpad mumbled with a smile.

He took several more hits before giving into the request that he knew Drake was too stubborn to actually make, handing the cigar wordlessly over to the other man. He could see the smile in Drake's stare even though it refused to grace his face, and it made him happy despite the fact that he knew he was being an enabler to a recovering smoker. Launchpad watched the cloud billow from Drake's bill as he sighed happily at the feeling. Through the corner of his eye, Drake could see him shifting, laying on his side and propping an arm on the bed so he could observe his lover.

"I suppose we gotta tell Gos that we're a thing now, eh?"

All action ceased mid-motion as the words sunk in. Drake looked completely horrified at the very notion. He groaned at the reality of it, hiding his face in his hands to avoid displaying the red hue that had taken over his naturally white feathers. "I guess we'd better," he whimpered. "I'll never live it down if she finds out by accident."

"Might not live it down even if she finds out on purpose," Launchpad snickered as he absently took the cigar that was handed back to him.

Another groan was his only response.

"Aw, come one DW, it'll be fine." He kissed gently at his partner's temple, rubbing his fingers along Drake's own until he finally relented enough to actually remove them from his still tinted face. "She's just gonna be happy that yer happy."

Drake smiled at the reassurance. He was right of course. In fact, knowing his daughter she would probably be thrilled that he had hooked up with Launchpad. He was one of her favorite people in the world after all, and she was weird enough to be ecstatic at the idea of having two dads; she had been known to joke about it in the past. Hell, they were already basically family, why not make it official?

Drake's blush deepened once again, but he smiled in spite of it.

Maybe this was meant to be after all.


End file.
